


The Trip

by FlameWolf



Series: My Strange Romance [2]
Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fingering, Mostly Smut, Oral, Public Sex, Rough Sex, mile-high club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:35:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5882893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameWolf/pseuds/FlameWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cherise gets invited to an art show that has some of her very own art and finds herself having to take a flight there.  On the plane she has an encounter with a very familiar face that turns into so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Still don’t know Marilyn Manson, nor have I met him in real life. Everything written here is fiction, for fun and no profit will be made from it.
> 
> Author’s Note: Yep, finally I got around to the sequel for ‘At the Club’. You don’t really need to read it to understand this one. Enjoy your smut guys!

It had been a few weeks since that wonderful night that was forever ingrained in her memory and she still found herself staring into space and thinking of him with a wistful sigh.  If it hadn’t been for the soreness a few days following the incident, Cherise would have thought it was all a dream.  Shaking herself out of her memories, the young woman brushed her red dyed bangs behind her ear as she approached the turnstile that would lead to her flight.  She was flying out to L.A. for a few days for an art show where her own art was being featured and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous.  This was the first time she would be flying anywhere, let alone her first trip alone.  Taking deep breaths in an effort to slow her racing heart, the dual haired female stepped forward to give the ticket handler her boarding pass.

Soon she was joining the flood of people as they entered the far too narrow plane, doing her best to stay in line despite the jostling and elbowing.  As they walked by the first class passengers, she couldn’t help but envy them.  The seats they had were larger and they had more leg room to boot.  As her tired, cerulean gaze travelled over the privileged, she couldn’t help but notice the rings on the hand of a passenger that had his face blocked by a newspaper.  For just a moment, Cherise found herself thinking of a certain back room in a club.  The rings on this man’s fingers looked oddly similar to... but she didn’t have too long to ponder this anomaly as the line shoved her along.  She never noticed the man lower his paper to watch her walk by.

Soon the dual haired female was fighting for the right to place her duffel in the overhead compartment.  The people shoving their way by certainly weren’t helping and she gritted her teeth from sheer frustration.  After what seemed like an eternity, she finally managed to get her bag to slide in so she could get to her seat.  Thankfully for her, she had gotten the window seat; saving her face from getting raped by an overweight ass.  The only downside was that it left an extra seat for another person.  She could deal with traveling next to a stranger but what she couldn’t deal with was talking to them.  To her relief though, the crowd soon thinned; leaving her with an empty seat and blissful silence.  Smiling to herself, the artist got out her sketchbook and began to draw.

Once the plane was in the air, Cherise found herself daydreaming about what had happened at the club at least three weeks ago.  His voice, his smell, his hands.  Shuddering at the memories, the twenty-eight year old squeezed her thighs together as a familiar ache began to form.  As odd as it was, she missed him.  She had tried to not be the stereotypical virgin, falling in love with the man who had popped her cherry.  The problem was that she had loved him long before he had ever laid a hand on her.  “He’s long forgotten you, it’s best you try to do the same,” she whispered to herself, her blue eyes watching the clouds passing under the plane.

A few minutes later, the red banged female had a problem.  She had to pee and they were still hours away from destination.  She absolutely hated moving on a moving vehicle, let alone going to the bathroom in a public restroom.  Still, the hot painful ball her bladder had become let her know that she had no choice.  Groaning in frustration, Cherise got to her feet and cautiously entered the aisle; leaving her sketchbook open on her abandoned seat.  She was in such a hurry, she never saw the figure coming from first class and stopping briefly to look at the artwork.  Pictures of Manson’s face littered the open pages.

By some miracle, she had reached the bathroom without turbulence and had done her business in peace.  Flushing and washing her hands, she opened the door to leave the closet like place only to find herself blocked in by somebody.  “Oh sorry, I’m finished here,” she squeaked out, keeping her gaze on the floor as she tried to squeeze past the person she assumed had been waiting for her to finish.  Instead of letting her by, the taller male moved in the way; using his thin but broad body to push her back in.  Before she knew it, she was enveloped in a tight embrace as a nose burrowed itself in her dual colored hair.

At first panic filled the tiny woman and she froze in place as her heart thudded loudly in her ears.  A few moments passed without the stranger moving and she slowly found herself going from frightened to confused.  This man almost acted as if he knew her and missed her.  Then an all too familiar scent met her nose, making her cerulean eyes widen.  No, there was no fucking way!  There was just no way this was possible!  Pulling back slightly in the man’s tight hold, the shaking woman pulled back to see the familiar mismatched eyes and pale face of Marilyn Manson.  “M-manson,” she gasped out, tears filling her eyes as her heart clenched with disbelief and outright joy.

To her shock, the rocker pulled her into his arms again, his breathing just as ragged and strained as hers was.  “I thought it was you getting on the plane but your bangs were a different color and I wasn’t sure.  When you left your seat, I followed to see if I was right.  That’s when I saw those drawings.  Cherise...,” husked his familiar voice, his hands moving from her slightly chubby waist to cup her paper white face.  In that moment, she felt her breath stop in her throat as she saw something warm and undefined in his heterochromic gaze.

“I missed you too,” he sighed against her quivering lips before he took them in a passionate kiss.  Callused thumbs rubbed her soft skin as his tongue urgently parted her lips to delve into her mouth.  The dextrous muscle carefully mapped her mouth as one of the hands on her face moved to the back of her head.  Then he was breaking that kiss with a low growl, a heated look coming into his mismatched eyes.

It was then the pair simply broke into a flurry of movement, each removing just enough clothing to have sex.  Then he was slamming her against a wall, groaning against her neck as he moved his semi-erect member along her moistening slit.  “I’m sorry babe.  We don’t have much time before people start to knock,” he rasped in a strained voice against her neck, the hand that wasn’t on her head moving down to wrap her thigh around his thin waist.

“I know,” she whispered in a heated voice, reaching between them with a black nailed hand to grasp his awakening flesh.  Manson moaned heatedly in her ear, his hips moving restlessly as pre began to pearl at his slitted tip.

“Fuck Cherise,” he hissed, his thighs shuddering slightly as he reached between them to touch her womanhood.  His fingers stroked along her soft folds, quickly working her into a frenzy before removing his hand.

Making sure to keep eye contact, the rock star licked her juices from his long fingers with a low groan.  “Please, tell me you want this,” he pleaded in a raspy voice against her neck, pressing his throbbing member against her junction.

“Yes, make it quick and dirty,” Cherise rasped in a husky voice, both her hands wrapping around his neck as he brought up her other leg to wrap around his waist.  Soon it was only his weight against her that kept her in place, his fingertips flexing on her thighs as he slid himself into her tight sheath.

The duo breathed eachother’s names in unison as Manson’s hips began a hard, driving rhythm, his harsh growls hot against her pulse.  “So fucking tight, fuck.  Have you had any partners other than me?” he snarled, biting her skin roughly as continued to plow into her roughly.

“N-not e-even a dildo,” she confessed in a breathless voice, moaning heavily as she felt a very violent orgasm beginning to crest due to his roughness.

“And why would that be, hmm,” he purred, laving his tongue over her pounding jugular; his ring covered hands holding her tightly against him.

“I... I d-don’t w-want anyone or anything else insi-ide me but you,” she gasped out her head rolling on her neck as she felt the first waves begin to wash over her.  She rested her sweaty forehead against his tensing shoulder as she felt the pressure within her build to unbearable heights.

“Oh fuck Marilyn... I-I’m cummmmiiinnng,” she gasped out, biting his shoulder lightly as everything exploded into white hot pleasure.

“Nnnh me too kitten,” he gasped before pulling out and humping himself along her stomach.  He came a few moments later with a hiss of her name.  Then he was slowly letting her down, holding onto her as they both regained their legs.  As soon as they were steady, the pair was quickly yanking on their clothing, Cherise doing her best to not look at the performer.

As much as her heart wanted this to be more, they were more than likely going back to their respective seats.  Sighing quietly and swallowing the tears that clogged her throat, the artist exited first.  If she could make it back to her seat first, maybe she could keep her head down when he went back to first class; he wouldn’t see she was crying.  Able to hold back her tears so far, the young woman made it back to her seat and picked up her sketchbook; resuming her previous seat before letting the dam in her break quietly.  She was only there for a few seconds before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Thinking it was a stewardess, she released a small, watery sigh as she wiped away the evidence she had been crying quite heavily.  When she turned, she saw the concerned face of Manson instead.  Upon seeing her tear rimmed blue eyes, the singer pursed his black lips before reaching up to grab her bag.  “Come on.  The seat next to me is empty,” he urged, the look in his eyes telling her he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.  Only able to nod, the stunned Cherise gathered her things and slid out of her seat; following the towering male to the front of the plane.

Thankfully his seat was located near the very back of first class, making it fairly easy for him to slide her into the window seat.  Once she was seated, he was placing her duffel into the storage bin beside his luggage.  Then he was sliding into his own seat and pulling the privacy curtain shut.  As soon as they were shut off from the other passengers, his lips were taking hers in a shockingly loving kiss as his thumbs brushed away the remnants of the moisture on her cheeks.  “Why did you leave so fast?” he whispered, keeping his mismatched eyes locked on hers as he reached up to ping the stewardess.

“I... I thought...,” she began, stopping when the rock star gave her a vaguely hurt look.

“You thought I just wanted a quick fling to get me through the flight.  While I can’t say my reputation helps that assumption, that isn’t the case here.  Cherise... where are you going?” he asked, taking her a bit off guard.  Before she could answer, the stewardess was there and the singer was motioning her to be quiet.  Then he was pulling the curtain slightly open to ask for a blanket.

Once that was finished, he looked at her expectantly.  “Oh!  Uh, L.A.,” she replied, not having enough courage to question why he was asking.  Right now she was still shocked he wanted to spend time with her.  It all seemed too good to be true and she gave herself a sharp pinch, letting out a small yelp at the pain.  This earned her a rather amused look before the rock star was again opening the curtain a tiny bit to accept the blanket.

“I just... I thought I was dreaming,” she whispered, feeling a bit ridiculous.  Manson only chuckled warmly in reply before spreading the blanket over both their laps.  Then he was lifting the separator between them, pulling her tight against his body.

“Marilyn... wha...,” she began, only to be interrupted by his tongue licking along her pulse slowly; making her shudder slightly.

“Take off your pants,” he urged in a heated, husky voice as the hand on her side moved up to cup her right breast.  Cherise sucked in a shaky breath, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“Please, no one will bother us with the curtain drawn,” he begged in a soft voice, his blueish white and brown eyes watching her closely.

Licking her lips, the blushing artist slowly slid off her jeans; awkwardly removing her shoes and placing the whole mess next to her on the seat.  “Thank you.  Lay back and close your eyes for me,” he rumbled, his arm once again looping around her.  Giving him a confused look, the dual haired female merely shrugged before leaning into the taller male.

“Good girl,” he breathed hotly against her neck, the arm around her right side moving its hand to the corresponding thigh.  Then it began to rub slowly, drawing a sigh of contentment from the slowly relaxing woman.  The singer hummed quietly in approval, the appendage on her thigh moving up and onto her lower stomach.

Manson pressed his soft lips to her neck, taking in a deep breath as he slid just the tips of his fingers under her silky underwear.  “M-manson?” she whispered in an unsure tone, her pale brow crinkling slightly as she kept her eyes shut.

“I thought I told you to call me Brian our first night together,” he rasped against her neck, his hand traveling downward slowly until his fingers were playing with her outer folds.

“Wh-what are you... Oooooo,” she began, only to end in a needy moan as his middle finger slipped into her wet heat.

“I want to watch you orgasm, memorize every little detail.  I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again,” the rocker growled, giving her soft flesh a harsh nip as his index finger began to circle her clitoral hood.  Cherise could only moan softly, her red bangs slipping into her face as she relaxed further into his body.

The celebrity holding her only released a gruff sound as he continued his delicious torture, his heterochromic gaze watching her face closely.  Small sighs and light keens left her lips as sparks of pleasure raced through her blood to gather in her core.  Soon they formed into a coiling ball of pressure inside her that was growing ever tighter with each stroke of his fingers on her button.  “Brian,” she gasped, arching into his hand as she burrowed her flushed face into his chest.  The superstar holding her only chuckled shakily, his fingers dipping briefly within her and curling upward to hit something that took her breath away.

“Does that feel good Cherise,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her slightly sweaty forehead as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her to play with her aching pearl.

“Yess, God yesss.  D-don’t stooop,” she whimpered quietly, clinging onto him like he was her only life-line as her breathing came in harsh pants.

“Cum for me Cherise.  I want to see your face,” he urged, his breath hot and heavy against her skin as his fingers entered her once more to press against that spot inside her.  Then she was exploding, muffling her cries in his shoulder as he slowly worked her down.

Once she was done spasming, the singer once again brought his hand to his face and licked her from his skin.  “Mmmm, I wish I had time to sample the real thing,” he sighed, holding her nestled against him as her breathing evened out.

“What about you,” she whispered in a shy voice, looking down at his covered lap.  She had a suspicion of just what she would find if she reached under it.

“This wasn’t about me getting off.  I wanted a little something to remember you by,” he replied in a throaty voice, tipping her chin up to place a kiss on her lips.

Cherise took that opportunity to slip her hand under the blanket to touch him, not disappointed by what she found.  The man was painfully hard, pulsing as soon as the heat of her hand so much as came near it.  Even his hips arched up slightly, a hiss leaving him as he broke the kiss to look into her eyes.  “What if I said I wanted the same thing,” she whispered, the black back of her hair falling over her right shoulder as she positioned herself to face him.  Then her right hand was undoing his zipper, sliding it down before reaching into his tight, leather pants and pulling out his pulsing member.

Manson moaned heatedly before taking her lips in a kiss that was all tongue and need.  Taking that as her cue to continue, the artist returned the kiss with a sigh as her hand wrapped around his steel hard length and began to move up and down. “Mmnh fuck,” he snarled heatedly into her mouth, one of his hands entwining in her mid-back length hair to hold her in place.  Smiling against his lips, she moved her hand faster; eliciting a heavy groan as he broke the kiss to lean his head back.  Licking her lips, Cherise found herself debating between two things and came to a quick decision.  Bending down as she kept her hand moving, the young woman took the tip of of him into her mouth.

That was enough to make the singer cum with a barely muffled scream, having to bite into his hand to deafen his cry as he emptied into her mouth.  Despite the foul, salty taste, Cherise swallowed everything; licking his tip as his spasms ended.  Once she was sure he was done, she pulled back to see him giving her a look that made her stomach drop.  With a low growl, the taller male swooped forward to scoop her into his arms and pull her into his lap.  “Fuck...  I wish I didn’t have to catch that connecting flight in L.A.,” he growled in a raspy voice, placing gentle kisses on her face as he readjusted his pants.  Then he was gently placing her in the seat next to him to allow her to do the same.

“So that’s why you asked where I was going.  You were hoping I was going to catch the same flight,” she whispered as she pulled on her clothing.

The singer only gave her a sorta sad smile before he pulled her into his lap and wrapped the blanket around them.  “Yes.  If you had been, I would have offered to let you stay with me,” he sighed in a voice that was tinged with regret.

“Where are you going?” the twenty-eight year old found herself asking.

“Germany.  I have a few tours to do there,” he responded, leaning his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes.

The two of them sat in silence for what seemed like hours, the sound of the plane engine almost lulling Cherise to sleep.  “What are you going to L.A. for?” came a quiet baritone, startling her out of a doze.

“Oh... Some of my art made it into a show and I was invited to attend,” she responded shyly.  The celebrity holding her only gave her a bright smile before planting a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Congratulations,” he chuckled, sounding genuinely happy for her as he brushed her crimson bangs behind her ear.

Cherise could only smile back before nestling into his bony chest, allowing his scent to envelop her.  “I really did miss you,” she whispered in a small voice, her heart thudding in her ears as she almost prayed he hadn’t heard her.  There were a few beats of silence, making her think that he hadn’t; before her chin was tilted up again and her lips were taken in a sweet kiss.

“I missed you too my little kitten.  Now sleep.  We have a few hours until we land,” he urged, petting her hair in a soothing manner.  Humming contently, the dual haired woman kissed under his chin before she nestled back into his cotton clad chest.  As she drifted off to sleep, her heart sang happily at his words.

They landed with a few bumps, startling Cherise rather badly until a protective pair of arms wrapped around her.  “Shhh, you’re safe,” whispered a familiar voice in her ear, making her remember where she was and who she was with.  Doing her best to ignore the ache blooming in her chest at leaving him again, the young woman smiled at her lover before getting out of his lap.  Manson only watched her, a brief, pained look coming over his face before he got out of his seat.  She followed close behind, ignoring the odd looks she got from the others in first class.

Before she could even reach for her bag, the ‘Antichrist Superstar’ was grabbing it for her before steering her ahead of him in the aisle.  Thankfully none of the stewardesses seemed bothered by the fact she had been snuck into first class.  In fact, she doubted she was the first.  “I’ll walk with you as far as I can,” whispered Manson’s voice by her ear, bringing her attention back to the fact they would soon be parting again.  Trying to be brave, Cherise once again swallowed her tears to give him a smile.

“Thanks,” she replied softly, wrapping her hand in his free one.  This seemed to startle the rock star, as he froze briefly before giving her a heart melting smile and enveloping her hand in his.

They walked down the long corridor in silence, the celebrity wearing his large sunglasses that somehow obscured his identity.  It honestly made the artist wonder if everyone had what she was calling ‘Clark Kent’ syndrome.  Thankfully them being more out in public didn’t make him drop her hand.  Instead, the large crowd seemed to make him anxious; causing him to pull her closer to him.  It was almost as if he was afraid that he would lose her in the sea of people.  Smiling sadly to herself, Cherise tightened her grip on his hand to reassure him as they kept moving.

Soon they were walking through the large airport, looking every bit the couple rushing to a mutual destination.  If anyone had bothered to take a closer look though, they would have seen the agony on both their faces.  Cherise was now actively having to swallow every few minutes to try to keep her building tears at bay.  The insistent ache in her chest wasn’t helping matters and she prayed to any God out there that she get through this without breaking down in front of the rocker.  Unfortunately they came up on the point where they had to separate and it was all she could do to keep the quickly crumbling pieces of herself together.

To her shock, Manson looked just as lost as she did; his black nailed hand shaking slightly as he offered her the black duffel she had brought.  Giving him a wavery smile, Cherise reached out to take it; only to have it dropped as he pulled her into a tight hug.  The singer holding her inhaled deeply, as if trying to memorize her very scent.  “I’ll never forget you,” he sighed in her ear, his hands moving to her hips.  Then he was kissing her heatedly as one of his hands slipped something into her jeans pocket.

Breaking the kiss to look in her eyes one last time, the man who held her heart spun on his heel and stalked away at a rapid pace; leaving her to break down in privacy.  Crying as quietly as she could, Cherise tried to swallow the thick agony that sat in her throat like a stone.  Doing her best just to breathe, the young artist gathered her bag and headed towards the tram that would take her to the escalators.  As she rode alone on the tiny shuttle, she reached into her pocket to pull out a handwritten note.  ‘‘Call me anytime’ - B. Warner’ it read, followed by his number.  Just seeing that made a bit of hope blossom within her.  Wiping away the last of her tears, the dual haired female squared her shoulders as she exited the tram and got on an escalator.  At least now she had something to look forward to after the art show.


End file.
